


enough for today

by baileyjoy3



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 14:12:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8492806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baileyjoy3/pseuds/baileyjoy3
Summary: They ignore it for a while.





	

**Author's Note:**

> some angst for your soul because im facing weird shit and death in my life and i needed to cope. not beta'd, all mistakes are my own. comments and kudos are appreciated. if this is a bit ooc i apologize. we haven't seen any of these characters really in these situations, so i tried to have hanzo react in a way that seemed similar to his dragons characterization. thanks and enjoy.

They ignore it for a while.

The reality of the situation is something they are all aware of, but refuse to acknowledge. But they suppose it is easier to ignore a problem than confront it head on. That’s never been their tactic. No, no, it was his, really. He preferred to charge in without a second thought, knowing that his team would support him. They were his cover, and together, they’d get the job done. His trust had been insurmountable.

The quiet voice that muses it may have been that which caused this to happen goes ignored. No one has it in them to argue that it was or wasn’t. If it was, then they blamed him, and that felt too wrong to do now. If that wasn’t the cause, then they were, and no one wanted to double their guilt.

So it was ignored.

If anyone notices the lack of heavy footfalls with a jingle following through, it isn’t mentioned. The hazy smell of cigar smoke slowly evaporates from the area, until someone notices it isn’t there. The loud rounds of a revolver aren’t present, but the lack of practice from everyone else allows them to avoid the thought.

If anyone notices that their teammates go missing for hours, or days, on end out of grief, no one says anything.

If Mercy was around to look after their health, they wouldn’t be allowed to mope like this. The morale of one affects them all, and depression carries quickly in a populated area. Angela has never been shy of dragging them off for therapy they don’t think they need to keep spirits up. In the end, it’s always appreciated, but when the doctor herself isn’t on call, no one bothers to do it themselves.

Some of the younger heroes make an effort. Hana and Lúcio never knew him overly well, despite their friendly and teasing natures. A loss is a loss, but when the others have known him for a good portion of their lives, it’s hard to compare the feeling.

Time doesn’t matter to him, though.

No one has made the attempt to talk Hanzo from his room after Genji had left silently, admitting a defeat that no one had expected.

But time continues to pass, and while no one has quite so much healed, they are beginning to recognize it as something they must do. Hanzo, however, is a case of his own. Worse so than Angela, Hanzo is impossible to even reach for conversation. They’d think him dead if it weren’t for Genji’s regular visit to his room to provide a meal. Genji has made it clear that despite his attempts, his brother does not speak to him.

“I don’t get it,” Hana quips one day, mug with her logo printed on it clasped between her hands. Her nails are bubblegum pink, and they tap along the rim of the ceramic. The noise is soothing, and Angela opens her eyes from across the table.

They’ve started to have daily meetings, broken off into different groups, ending with a mass meeting on Friday’s. Angela and Zenyatta have been working together in formulating discussion topics and healing processes, while Lúcio has been actively mixing and tuning songs to play for them. The entire process has become easier, with the support of each other. Zenyatta just emanates a calming presence, and with Lúcio’s music combined, they all seem to feel a little better. Angela may not be a psychologist by nature, but doctoral degrees come with their fair share of work in other fields.

“What is it you don’t understand, Hana?” Angela asks softly, always the one to keep a level head, despite it all.

Hana’s face is pinched slightly in frustration and her nails click to a stop. She’s staring into her coffee, a warm brown color near identical to her eyes.

“Why does he get to hole up in his room while the rest of us have to sit here and try and work through it? I mean, yeah, I get the whole grieving process, but what makes him any more special than the rest of us?” she grumbles, clearly upset.

Angela’s face smooths over and she allows a soft smile.

“You misunderstand, _liebling_ ,” Angela placates, reaching a hand out to set upon Hana’s forearm. Hana lifts a brow at her, her gaze clouded with confusion.

Angela goes to open her mouth, an explanation on the tip of her tongue, but a voice from the doorway of the kitchen cuts her to a close sharply.

“Did you ever consider that your relationship with Jesse was different from mine?”

The room seems to chill over instantly. In the month since the incident, McCree’s name has not been spoken aloud; no one had been brave enough to say it. This is also the first time that Hanzo has emerged from his room.

Bizarrely, the man looks as put together as always. The only difference in his appearance seems to be in what he’s wearing. Rather than his traditional wear, or his rather professional casual wear, Hanzo is dressed in a flannel shirt, left unbuttoned to reveal a plan gray v-neck. He’s wearing a simple pair of jeans, but his hair is tied upon with a different color ribbon than the usual gold.

Hana opens her mouth to protest back at Hanzo, but Angela grips her arm. She closes her mouth, pouting. Hanzo’s earlier glare drops away into an indifferent expression, but it lacks the composure the man usually carries himself with. He looks like he really doesn’t care, and the way he wanders into the actual kitchen is only a surer sign of that. He moves about slowly, starting himself a pot of tea.

“Did you maybe think that simply because Jesse held a friendship with you, that was all he had with anyone?” Hanzo says next. Hana looks to Genji, who shakes his head; he’s not going to pick a side here.

“Our good doctor didn’t speak with us for a good week after. Is that simply because of the fact she was the attending doctor to Jesse’s injuries? Or was it because she had known him since Reyes had recruited him into Blackwatch?”

“Shimada-san,” Angela says softly. Lúcio, Hana, and Zenyatta have all fallen silent. Genji doesn’t speak either, but he is ready to if necessary. He knows his brother better than the others, and if Hanzo wants to hurt someone’s feelings, this would be when he was most likely to do it.

“Dr. Ziegler, please. The young lady asked a question, and I feel it is appropriate to answer, seeing as I have been away for so long.”

“No one is blaming you for that, Hanzo,” Genji inserts, leaning towards his brother’s direction. “Hana did not know, and it is not her you should take your frustration out on.”

“Who would it be then, brother?” Hanzo quips in response. “The Talon agents we already killed? The higher power that took Jesse from us?” he finally turns away from the counter, hands clenched in fists over his biceps, his arms cross over his chest. “Do you think I have not considered my options?”

“You still haven’t said what was different,” Hana mumbles, taking a sip of her coffee.

Hanzo makes a frustrated noise before uncrossing his arms. He stalks toward the table they’re circled around, and Genji shifts to his feet, ready to stop his brother from doing any kind of damage. No kind of physical response occurs though. Hanzo simply lifts his hands together.

In the next moment, a silver band clinks to the table. It circles a few times before falling flat.

“That,” Hanzo says softly, his voice shaking. “That is what was different. I watched my fiancé get shot before my eyes because I hesitated in putting an arrow through the Talon operative who was attacking him.”

No one speaks at this. Hanzo doesn’t expect them to. Instead, he picks the ring back up, sliding it back onto his hand.

“It’s different because I loved him differently. We all have a right to grieve,” Hanzo murmurs. “Jesse was a friend to us all, and a team member who deserved his title as a hero more than I ever will. But,” Hanzo says, his voice finally breaking. No one can hold his gaze. “But Jesse was mine. And I let him die. It is my fault that we all feel like this, and I could not face you because of it.”

There is a moment of pause, before Hanzo breathes a soft ‘excuse me’ and ducks from the room. The room echoes only with the soft sound of Lúcio’s music bleeding from his amplifier. The mood has soured, and even with the tune playing, and the soft tinging of Zenyatta’s orbs, it will not change.

“I didn’t know,” Hana finally says, her voice soft, lost.

“They didn’t want us to know,” Genji provides softly. He pulls the gazes of the others at the table. Genji swallows. “Hanzo told me that they did not want the unnecessary attention of a relationship because it could be viewed as weakness. They did not want to be targeted for it.” He sighs softly, a robotic noise that sounds a bit like static crackling. “I suppose even without it being public, the undesired effect still occurred.”

It’s quiet again.

Angela looks to Lúcio and nods before sweeping her gaze around the table to the others.

“I think that’s enough for today.”


End file.
